


Her and the Devil

by mltrefry



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Crime Fighting, Devil Face (Lucifer TV), Established Relationship, F/M, Post Season 4, not season 5 compliant, what could have been if there was no Michael arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 20:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mltrefry/pseuds/mltrefry
Summary: Chloe doesn't pray to God when she's in trouble
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 14
Kudos: 151





	Her and the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr, but I wanted to archive it properly here.

Chloe Decker had never prayed in her life, at least not intentionally. She probably cursed God now and then, even before Lucifer. It was more just a way to express her exasperation, but after she found out The Truth, she wondered how often those little curses and slip-ups made it to Him. There was begging and pleading, too. But really, in the end, it was inconsequential.

He never replied anyway.

But then again, neither did Lucifer.

After he’d gone, after she managed to pull herself away from the balcony and out of the penthouse, she’d gone to Linda. Charlie had been kidnapped, after all, and she wanted to make sure everyone was as okay as they could be.

But Amenadiel and Linda saw through her put-on smiles (though she was genuinely relieved and pleased that everyone was okay), and asked her if she’d spoken to Lucifer since the incident with the demons.

It hurt to say the words, it made her throat tight, and her heart ache, but she got through them. It was better getting the initial question of Lucifer’s whereabouts out of the way with them first. Linda was tribe, and she  _ knew _ , so the truth was spoken easily without the need of trying to come up with some sort of bullshit cover-up.

That’s when Amenadiel explained two things: the time difference in Hell and the act of prayer.

The first sparked hope that Chloe would see Lucifer again. After all, if two minutes on Earth could be days in Hell, he’d already been gone for months in his mind. How long did it take to ensure that the demons behaved?

The second gave her an outlet, something to channel her thoughts and love into when it all became too much, which happened at least once a day. Amenadiel had explained that angels very rarely, if ever, got a prayer from a mortal. And you had to be very specific, so even if the Satanists tried to send word to their lord, chances are they weren’t doing it right. Lucifer would hear her, and while he couldn’t send anything back, she could help him through what would end up being centuries below.

God was quickly replaced by Lucifer for most things. Unless she really wanted to curse, then she stuck to the tried and true. Maybe if Chloe were lucky, it would give her a one-way ticket to exactly where she probably shouldn’t want to go when the end came. Not that she was in any sort of rush. There was Trixie, and she wasn’t about to throw herself in danger and leave her little girl without a mother. There was her own mother, whose heart she didn’t want to break by having her lose her husband and daughter in the line of duty, not if she could help it.

She wondered if Lucifer was more amused or annoyed by the little snippets that ended up his way. She wondered if maybe she somehow made him smile or laugh. If the demons worried for him or feared the possibility of his going mad. She wondered if he heard or felt the love she filled her every word with when she prayed to him. Or, more likely, what it might look to someone who might have noted her pressed hands in the lunchroom or at her desk or sitting in traffic on the way home.

But Chloe Decker didn’t really give a shit.

It had never occurred to her to communicate with him when she was in any sort of possible danger. Suspects frequently drew weapons or threatened violence, but she’d been facing them down for years, long before celestial beings came into her life and she fell for the devil.

At least, it didn’t occur to her before now.

She’d been working with Dan on a case. A murder of a chemistry teacher, the scent of drugs, and gang activity that reminded her so much of that case with Lucifer, where he went undercover with Marcus. Cain. (No, Marcus. Marcus was an easier name to swallow in her mind. Especially after meeting Eve). But unlike before, it wasn’t an accident of an overly high suburban husband going after a former gang drug cook. It was a gaggle of rich, privileged teenagers who genuinely thought of themselves as gangsters, getting back at the teacher who found out what they were really doing in the chem lab after school.

They tracked the kids down, discovering that they were going to attempt to make a deal in the half-built condo complex of one of their parents. There had been back up. There had been no place for them to go.

And yet, one still got away.

And Chloe had gone after him.

The problem was, he knew the area, the site, everything better than she did. And even with back-up, there weren’t enough unis around to follow her in pursuit.

He backed her into a corner without realizing it. The chain-link fence was high, much more flush to the building than she’d initially thought—the road behind her too far away for a passerby to really notice anything amiss. Construction materials concealed her location, and even if she yelled, she was unlikely to get help from anyone in time.

The suspect had hidden very carefully among the materials until she was in the trap he set, and then he came out.

“Drop your gun, lady.” He said, pointing his own at her.

Hers was trained on him. “It’s not too late, Devon.” She tried to talk him down. “If you weren’t the one who shot Liz Parker, it won’t be as bad for you.”

“I said drop your gun.” He added, readying his. “My father taught me how to shoot young, and I’ve gone to the range as often as I could for years. I may just be a better shot than you are. So, do as I say, and put the fucking gun down.”

He had that look in his eyes. That cold gleam told her all she needed to know. She would put down her weapon, and he would still shoot her. He wasn’t going to let her live, and if she tried to fire, he would too.

Heart pounding, she thought of only one person, one being, in the entire universe.

Chloe put down her weapon, showing her hands to the suspect quickly. Then, slowly, as she stood back up, she put her hands together. Without taking her eyes off the guy, she whispered words to her pressed palms.

He blinked at her, then laughed. “Are you praying? Really? Lady, God’s not going to do shit for you.”

She smirked wickedly as the perp’s hair fluttered, and a pair of red, glowing eyes cut through the dark behind him.

“Oh, I wasn’t praying to Him,” She said cheerfully.

The suspect looked very, very confused before a red, clawed hand suddenly grabbed the barrel of his gun and bent it upward.

Devon yelped and then screamed when those ruby red, hellfire eyes caught his. Screams became something near hyperventilation as the pitted, scarred face broke into a wide, toothy grin.

“Hello, you slimy little insect.” Lucifer’s melodic, rich voice greeted the suspect. As the man backed away, falling to the ground and continued to shimmy away, Lucifer stalked him, passing under the light.

Chloe didn’t know what she expected. He was the devil, but not the broad-shouldered, bat-winged one she saw last. This was the devil she saw standing over Pierce. And she was immensely relieved that there wasn’t even a slight hint of fear fluttering in her heart.

“You really chose the wrong detective to point your gun at,” Lucifer said as he cornered the suspect. “You’ll go to jail, I’m sure. But don’t worry, it’ll be a pleasant experience before you kick off and make your way down to Hell. And that’s where the real fun will begin.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the perp repeated, cowering and covering his face as he wept hard.

“Oh, you will be,” Lucifer promised as Chloe retrieved her weapon, prepared her cuffs, and strode over to Devon, securing him.

Once her suspect was cuffed, still quietly sobbing, Chloe turned to the Devil.

“Hi,” She said, trying not to smile too widely.

“Hello,” he said warmly, his voice and eyes full of tender affection.

“It’s good to know you’re listening.” She said as she clasped her hands together in front of her.

“I always hear you. Mind, it’s not like many pray to the Devil, not properly, anyway.” He smirked, boyish as ever.

They held each other’s eye as Lucifer’s pitted skin slowly changed to his pale, five o’clock shadow form. And when it was nearly gone, he took a step toward her, lifting his hand to caress her cheek like he had before he left the penthouse that night.

“I can’t stay long,” He said wistfully. “Time runs differently down there, but it’s only been a century or two.”

“I understand,” Chloe replied as she leaned into his touch.

“Try and keep out of trouble, Detective.” He teased. “I would hate for any topside visits to only occur when you need me to get you out of trouble.”

“Try my best.” She gave a small, restrained smile in return.

Lucifer hesitated before leaning in and gently kissing her, and Chloe put her hands to his face, lightly brushing her fingers over his stubble.

“Chloe!” Dan’s voice shouted, and there was a rush of air around her. “Chlo!” He shouted again, and then another whoosh, and Lucifer was gone.

She sighed but did not cry. She would see him again. He pretty much said so himself, in his own way.

Chloe turned to Dan as he came rushing over, collecting a very compliant suspect as he babbled on about her and the Devil.


End file.
